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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165791">it always leads to you and my hometown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfootsflannel/pseuds/bigfootsflannel'>bigfootsflannel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the road not taken looks real good now [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bittersweet, Christmas Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfootsflannel/pseuds/bigfootsflannel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylvain left home years ago. He comes back for the holidays.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the road not taken looks real good now [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it always leads to you and my hometown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was inspired by 'tis the damn season' by taylor swift. she said 'wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles i'm faking' and my sylvix brain grabbed onto it and would. not. let. go.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sylvain had been fully expecting to run into Felix while he's visiting home, but it still comes as a shock to his system when he's at the grocery store and sees a familiar head of dark hair atop shoulders bundled up in a furry coat. It shouldn't; he knows that Felix still lives in their hometown, though nowadays he's sharing a place with Dimitri and Ingrid, which makes Sylvain feel like maybe this whole town has been preserved for him, a perfect idyllic scene in a snow globe, just waiting to be shaken up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares, perhaps for too long, having a gay crisis in the produce section as he watches sharp eyes inspect lemons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, he reasons with himself, he had been expecting to see Felix at some point or another during his stay, but he had been expecting to have a little bit more warning. Maybe he'd have been able to fix up his appearance a little bit, rather than the way he looks now, jetlagged and fresh off a plane. With that in mind, he's about to turn and bolt, but then Felix's eyes snap up and catch his, and suddenly he's frozen in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can think any better of it, he makes his way over towards him. “Felix!” he greets him, and his voice sounds far too upbeat and casual even to his own ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sylvain,” he says, lowering a lemon back onto the pile and turning to face him. It looks for a second like he's considering hugging him, but ultimately apparently he decides against it. “I didn't realize you were in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, surprise. Here I am,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They just stare at each other for a few seconds after that, and the gravity of everything that they haven't said to each other seems to weigh both of them down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing is, Sylvain loves Felix, and he's decently confident that Felix knows it. He's pretty sure that Felix loves him too, or maybe he used to and doesn't anymore. It isn't like he could blame him for moving on in the years since they've last seen each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of years, they've been kind to Felix. Sylvain has seen pictures of him in the meantime, on Facebook and Instagram even though he's aggressively declined to join social media himself - between Annette and Dimitri, he still had plenty of an online presence, even if it was all secondhand. But none of those pictures truly did him justice, because in person there is that same little glint in his eyes that makes Sylvain's heart skip a beat every damn time. His hair is loose and he can see that it's a little bit longer than he used to prefer it, still mercifully pin-straight, and oh how Sylvain wants to run his fingers through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's good to see you,” he says. “What have you been up to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dimitri has finally actually taken over the company, so I'm still there helping him make sure the whole thing doesn't fall apart,” Felix explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, he gives him a small smile. “Yeah? That's good. I hear it's going pretty well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It keeps me busy,” he says with a small nod. “Seems like things are going well for you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, yeah. I guess you could say that,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's been about five years since he packed up his things and moved to Los Angeles. It's difficult to say whether he cut himself off or his parents cut him off, but at this point it doesn't matter - against all odds, his career has taken off, and he's been welcomed back into the Gautier household with open arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually watched a few episodes with Ingrid the other day,” Felix tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's actually kind of embarrassing, knowing that Felix has watched his acting. He's never been afraid of being perceived - he basks in the attention, sometimes - but it's a whole different story when it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Oh,” he says. “What did you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The script is pretty bad,” he says, and it's kind of refreshing, how Felix has never been one to pull punches. “But you're not bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Sylvain asks, and he only feels a little bit pathetic for how much he's impacted by that extremely minimal praise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I might keep up with the show,” he says. “Or, you could find something better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that's the idea. I'm working on it, promise.” And it's true. But he's still at the point in his career where he's going to accept practically anything that comes his way, because he needs to establish himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer. He pauses for a second, glancing back down at the bin of citrus fruits in front of him. His hand idly traces over the edge of the cardboard. “I should probably get going, Ingrid is waiting on me to get back with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right,” he says with a quick nod, because he probably should actually try and accomplish what he came here for, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… Maybe you could come by,” he says, looking up at him with a look in his eyes that makes Sylvain feel warm, like he's receiving that hug that Felix had neglected to give him earlier. “I'm sure everyone would like to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” he says, nodding maybe a little bit too quickly. Maybe he's too eager, too enthusiastic, but it's been too long since he's seen Felix and he wants him to know just how much he's missed him, even if he won't be able to find the words to say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix nods. “I'll text you our address. Come over whenever. I'll let them know you're coming, so you'd better not bail on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn't dream of it,” he tells him, giving him a quick salute before they part ways. He can't stop smiling, and people probably think that he's insane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(If they didn't already. After all, this town is small enough that he recognizes most of the faces he sees, and most of them probably recognize him, independent of his budding acting career.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain is decently confident that if he had never moved out west, he would have ended up together with Felix. Hell, maybe they would have been married by now. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking, but it's difficult to tell anymore. He almost wants to ask Felix what he thinks, but that would probably not be his best move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hurries through the rest of his shopping trip, and he may not have gotten everything up to his mother's standards, but he has a bit of trouble caring, because now that he's seen Felix, his brain is suddenly having trouble thinking about anything else. His mind is a constant loop - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Felix, Felix, Felix</span>
  </em>
  <span> - steady as his beating heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of a desire to appear to not be quite so overeager as he is (because, make no mistake, he absolutely is overeager) and also maybe out of respect for the possibility that not everyone keeps their home guest-ready at all times, he makes himself wait until the darkening skies of evening have settled over everything, though he occupies much of that time with trying to figure out what to wear. He fixes his hair and settles on something that he hopes is casual enough, and then he sets out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father might not appreciate the way that he took off without a word, but he's an adult now and he gets to make his own rules.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he arrives at the address that Felix had sent him (in a nice neighborhood, behind a gate, with some lights strung up across the porch), the door opens before he can even knock. Before he can even process what is happening, he's pulled into a hug by arms he belatedly recognizes to be Dimitri.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sylvain! What a pleasant surprise. Felix didn't tell us before today that you would be coming, otherwise we would have prepared more,” Dimitri tells him, squeezing his shoulder as he pulls back. He's smiling, bright as the sun shining outside on the fresh snow, and it feels a little strange, because the last time Sylvain saw him, he was heading into a depressive episode that had taken years and all of his friends' support for him to fully shake out of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(That's another thing Sylvain feels guilty for, knowing he shouldn't have left behind, but he had cut and run when he felt like he was drowning under his parents' expectations, and he hadn't discriminated in who or what he had damaged in the process. It's almost surprising how he had carried on sending him messages in the time since, like he had never done him wrong.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's alright, you didn't need to do anything,” he tells him with a small smile. “And Felix didn't tell you because he didn't know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” he says, nodding. “Well, nonetheless, it is very good to see you. I can't wait to hear all about how things are going for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too,” he says, even though they've actually been doing a pretty good job of keeping up with each other over messages, in spite of their respective busy schedules. It's not perfect, but he's suspected that this is what growing older looks like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri ushers him into the living room, where Felix and Ingrid are waiting. The latter starts to get to her feet, but before she gets very far, there's a series of barks and a golden retriever who appears to have just gotten the memo that there's a guest rushes up to greet Sylvain, immediately jumping up on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bear!” he says, unrestrained delight escaping him as he lets the dog's front paws rest against his chest, rubbing his hands over his sides. “I missed you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This dog is another piece of evidence that, despite how it feels like it hasn't been that long since he had been with the friends he'd had most of his life, plenty of time has gotten away from him. Bear Blaiddyd had been gifted to Dimitri as a puppy when he had gotten his driver's license. Now, there's white fur on his face that used to be pure golden red, though the big smile he gives Sylvain tells him that he's still all puppy inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bear, get down, you don’t get to forget your manners just because there's another animal in here with you now,” Ingrid tells the dog, resting a hand atop his head and gently urging him downward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain pouts at her, but even her teasing is welcome. “Rude,” he protests. “Besides, you're not his mom, you can't tell him what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes at him, but wraps him in a tight hug nonetheless, taking a moment to burrow her face in his shoulder before she steps away again. “Someone needs to tell him what to do. He runs this place,” she tells him. Gesturing towards the couch for him to sit, she goes on, “How long are you in town for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About a week. Production's on a little break for the holidays so I thought I'd spend part of that time here,” he says as he takes a seat, finding himself settled between Felix and Ingrid as she reclaims her spot on the couch as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix gives him a small nod in greeting, saying simply, “I wasn't sure if you were going to come after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always keep my promises, Fe,” he tells him, basking in the way that he swears there's a spark in Felix's eyes in response. “I'll be over here as much as you want me here while I'm in town.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you staying with your parents?” Dimitri asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, he lets out a dramatic sigh. “I am indeed, hence the offers to be over here more,” he says. Shaking his head at his own words, he adds, “I'm kidding. It's really not that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're sure? Because we have space for you, you could stay with us if you needed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid hums her agreement, leaning forward so that she can look over at Felix pointedly. “Yeah, Felix could spare a little bit of room in his dungeon to put up an air mattress if you wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a huff, Felix shakes his head. “It's not a dungeon,” he says, though he doesn't argue the point about making room for Sylvain, so he's going to count that as a win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'd sleep in a dungeon. Sounds hot,” he says with a quick wink purely for Felix's benefit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's the basement,” Dimitri explains. “It's easiest to leave that to him, because he can work out down there without it disturbing anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I assumed it was just because he’s the same little gremlin as he ever was,” he says, leaning over to playfully nudge Felix with his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep this up and I’ll make you sleep outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain laughs, and honestly the entire offer does hold a lot of appeal. He would, no doubt, be a whole lot more comfortable if he were to stay here. Being with these three people has always felt more like home than his own childhood home, even if they’re in a house that’s completely unfamiliar to him. “I appreciate the offer, guys, but I think I can stick with my current accommodations. They're actually trying, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix </span>
  <em>
    <span>hmph</span>
  </em>
  <span>s but doesn't protest any further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, just know that the offer stands. And not just for this visit, either,” Dimitri tells him, offering him that same sincere smile that makes something in him ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid nods her agreement. “Yeah. And if you were to ever decide to come back… Well, we could rearrange things so that you've got a room here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels strange to know that his friends would be so willing to turn their own home over to allow him to join them, but he also suspects that it's just as much politeness as it is genuine interest in taking him in. “Don't tempt me. I've got a contract these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there, the conversation evolves into the standard catching up, though everyone knows the basic details of everyone else's lives. Ingrid is working her way through med school, still on track to save the world or cure cancer within the next few decades. The Blaiddyds' company has mostly taken over Dimitri's life, though Sylvain is intrigued to learn that he's been spending more time over at Claude's apartment for apparently non-business reasons. Sylvain, of course, is working on making a name for himself in the acting world, with varying success, but at least he's got a decent gig that actually gets him on television screens on a regular basis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Felix, well. Felix is still Felix. He's actually living a life that Rodrigue would be proud of - looking after Dimitri, propping him up when he needs it - and Sylvain almost wants to ask how he feels about that, but he's not about to poke that specific bear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually they decide to put Sylvain to work, because they had been planning on decorating this evening anyway, and now he's got to be roped into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn't sure that he has an eye for it, but then he realizes he's working with the likes of Ingrid and Felix here. Maybe he's the best person for it in the room. “You should've called Annette up for this,” he comments as he puts another command hook on the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we would have,” Dimitri affirms with a nod, handing him the bundle of garland to carry on stringing it along the perimeter of the room. “But she's out of town until the new year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn. Guess that means I'll miss her,” he says, shaking his head. “Don't let me forget to leave a gift for her with you guys for when she gets back; make sure she doesn't think I forgot about one of my favorite girls, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid rolls her eyes at him and threatens to knock him off the step ladder he's standing on, but before he can say anything in response, Felix appears in the doorway. “I'm borrowing Sylvain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever eager, he apologizes to Dimitri before entrusting him with the task of tacking up hooks for the garland and follows Felix into the other room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you need? Got a big - </span>
  <em>
    <span>mmph</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he's cut off from finishing his sentence by being pushed up against the wall by Felix as soon as they're out of sight of the others in the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Felix tells him before ensuring that he does exactly that by bringing their lips together. It's smooth and familiar but just the little bit aggressive - Felix in a nutshell, really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix and Sylvain had never dated, not officially, but what they had done was plenty of kissing, plenty of touching and expressing more with their bodies than they'd ever been able to say in words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And apparently, they're going to pick back up with that tradition again now. To be fair, it's a good one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can't </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe</span>
  </em>
  <span> you'd just come back into town like this,” Felix mumbles against his lips before pressing another searing kiss to his mouth, and he sounds furious, or maybe that's just what he always sounds like. Maybe Sylvain's memory is faulty; he's starting to have trouble thinking, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs into it, because he's never known what was good for him, and he says, “Well, I did. Here I am. Are we trying to give Ingrid and Dima a show?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix glares at him for a second, and for a moment he thinks he might have actually stopped this in its tracks, but he just takes hold of his hand, leading him down the stairs. Sylvain tries to take in his environment as he's led through what is evidently the workout area mentioned earlier, but ultimately it doesn't matter because the only thing that matters is Felix, who is crowding him against the bedroom door and crashing their lips together again while his hands cling to him like he is drowning and this is his only hope to stay above water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for what it's worth, Sylvain feels like he's always been better than most people at figuring Felix out. He's not going to be so bold as to think that he knows how to control him, but maybe he can at least do his best to rein him in. And so he does, pulling back and running his hands over his sides before kissing him again, slower this time, more tender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a frustrated sound but ultimately Felix allows him to set the pace, until he starts to tug him towards the bed, and Sylvain is all too willing to follow his lead on that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the backs of his legs hit the bed, Felix turns them around and pushes Sylvain onto the bed. He's trying to rush it again, his hands grabbing at Sylvain's shirt (so carefully picked out, and now it's wrinkled), and he lets him take it off before once again taking hold of his hand. “Easy,” he tells him. “We've got all the time in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we don't,” Felix responds, and well, he can't exactly argue with that one. The week that he's here is going to go by far too quickly, but he's going to focus on now. And right now, they have all night, and he tells him as much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's sure that he would still rather take control of this, and maybe later this week sometime Sylvain will gladly let him take command, but he's always felt that reunions are meant to be a little bit softer. Even if they've unceremoniously abandoned their friends with absolutely no warning, even if he had no expectation of this happening tonight, he's going to at least try and do it right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he lays Felix on his back and he takes his time undressing him, cherishes the way he can feel goosebumps rising up on his skin as he runs his fingers over his torso, over smooth skin and familiar scars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to know if anyone else has touched him like this in the time they've been apart and simultaneously dreads the answer and laments the thought that Felix might have been on his own. Of course, no one could have ever been better at taking care of Felix than Felix himself, but Sylvain has always tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses every inch of skin that he can reach until Felix growls at him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get a move on</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he's a gentleman so of course he obliges. He basks in the way Felix gasps when he slides his fingers inside of him, and it feels like coming home, and just as ever, touching him always just makes him want more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Felix is more than willing to give him more. He thinks, maybe, he'll let him take and take and he maybe neither of them know where to draw the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After, they lay together on the bed, and Sylvain pulls the blanket over them - for modesty, of course. They don't talk about what it means. They never have, really, and maybe it makes him selfish, but he is absolutely willing to take anything that Felix is willing to give him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows better than to try and argue that he should go home now, and Felix's bed is better than any air mattress here or his childhood bed across town. Not when there's a sight like this here - Felix, calm and lax under the covers, his hair loose against the pillowcase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, should we get back upstairs and join the party again?” Sylvain asks, mostly to annoy him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing hold of his arm and tugging him back down next to him, he mumbles, “Your party is right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, kissing Felix and settling back in against him, an arm wrapping loose around his waist. “Right you are.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>In the morning, Sylvain leaves relatively early, because he had promised to go to brunch with his mother and the least he could do was show up. Felix acts unaffected by his departure, but makes him promise to come back, which feels more earnest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercifully, Dimitri is already off on his morning run and Ingrid sleeps in on every occasion she gets the chance, so he doesn't have to answer for why he disappeared the night before, and why he's still here now. If anyone is going to be asking any questions, they'll be directed to Felix. It feels fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brunch is fine, as brunch ever is, and afterwards he actually manages to spend a little bit of time with his father. Neither of his parents ask about where he was the night before, or why he had had to meet his mother at the restaurant rather than being able to drive together, and he thinks that that's for the best for everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suspects that he's really only able to get through it because he knows what's ahead of him. He doesn't need to pay much attention to what his father is saying - investments, work, so on and so forth - when he gets to walk away again at the end and run back to Felix's company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets a text from Dimitri in the middle of the afternoon asking if he will be joining them for dinner, and uses that as an excuse to part ways. After all, his father has always seen Dimitri as a good, upstanding young man, exactly the kind of person Sylvain could learn a thing or two from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offers to supply dinner in exchange for their hospitality in hosting him, and though Dimitri tries to convince him it isn't necessary, in the end he orders about a hundred dollars' worth of Thai takeout and he lays out a feast on their coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With full stomachs and still plenty of leftovers, they more or less agree to watch a movie, which leads to half an hour of discussion on which movie to watch (and whether or not Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ultimately, they turn on The Princess Switch, pleasing exactly no one, and turn the lights off, and Felix shuffles his way across the couch cushion to curl up against Sylvain, wrapping a blanket around them both. “Cold,” he mumbles, and while it may be true, Sylvain suspects that it has much more to do with wanting to be close; he definitely isn't about to complain. He rests his head against his chest as he watches the movie, and Sylvain wonders if he can hear his heart beating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the credits roll, no one is motivated to move and they decide on watching Klaus as a palate cleanser, and Sylvain is more than happy to allow Felix to bury his face in his chest at the sadder moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the movie ends, Dimitri and Ingrid both retire to their bedrooms. Felix grabs the remote and turns the TV off, leaving them in the relative dark, with the only lighting in the room coming from the Christmas lights they had strung up the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn't been able to properly appreciate it before, but now that he's really looking at it, the house is pretty nicely decorated for the holidays. He has no idea where they got all the decor, but it's a job well done. It's cozy, and he thinks that maybe he can feel the holiday spirit for the first time since adulthood has turned his heart cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The centerpiece of it all, of course, the tree, which unfortunately Sylvain cannot take any credit for. It's full and the lights make the bauble ornaments hanging from it seem to twinkle. There are already a couple of presents lying in wait underneath it, and it feels utterly idyllic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ingrid tried to talk us into a fake tree, but Dimitri was adamant,” Felix comments when he catches him staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, I do think that a real tree elevates things a little bit. They smell nice,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence between them is comfortable, and the lights on the tree cast the room in a pale, warm glow that makes the world seem quieter and softer. For the moment, it feels like there is nothing but them, even though he knows fully well that their best friends are upstairs asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain has always been too much of a romantic for someone whose heart has only ever truly has space in it for one person, and he knows a romantic scene when he sees it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fully anticipating Felix saying no, he puts a smile on his face, standing up and reaching a hand out to him in invitation. “Can I have this dance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment where he’s just standing there, looking at his hand skeptically, and Sylvain can feel the way his heart is pounding too much for a moment as simple as this. He’s taken it a step too far, he thinks, but then Felix takes his hand, and it doesn’t take much after that to get him pulled in close for a slow dance, one hand on Felix’s back, the other remaining clasped in his. It’s simple, just moving together with no real rhyme or reason to it, but he’s holding him close again and he’s happy for any excuse to be near him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was never much of a dancer,” Felix says, but he’s moving just as fluidly along with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell you weren’t,” he says softly, looking down at him with a smile and he wonders if Felix can tell just from looking at him how fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is over him, how somehow he hasn’t even lost an ounce of the love he held for him after the years of distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re communicating like this just as easily as they ever have, and words aren’t needed because Felix follows where he leads, as he ever has, implicitly trusting him as they move across the hardwood floor. He hums as they move together, whatever Christmas song had been in the radio in the car earlier in the day, and it’s an easy, slow tempo for them to move to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers once when he was young, just a kid really, he’d been pushed into taking dancing lessons. It was the sort of skill that a well-rounded young man should have, his mother had said. He’d taken advantage of the opportunity to flirt with all the girls in his class, and when he went home after, he’d boasted about his skills and showboated his amateur dancing prowess to try and impress Felix. He wonders now if he would have been more successful if he had taken a more subtle approach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts his arm and guides Felix to do a little spin, which he does with minimal complaining, which feels like a win. He grins at Felix and he gets a hint of a smile in return, and it is all the encouragement that he needs. He slides his hand behind Felix’s shoulders and guides him into a dip, and though he makes a little surprised sound, he eases into it just as easily as expected. When he’s righted again, his hands come up to rest on Sylvain’s shoulders, and it might just be the low light, but there might be a hint of a blush on his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too bad, right?” he asks him with a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Felix leans up and captures his lips with his own. It’s slow and gentle as their dance was, and he sighs into it, and Sylvain wonders how the hell he’s ever going to be able to feel more for a person than he does right now. “You’re still as big a fool as ever,” he mumbles, and their noses bump before Felix steps back. “It’s late, we should probably go to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hands are still entwined, and this time as he follows Felix down the steps, there’s absolutely no question for him as to whether or not he’s going to stay the night.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Because Sylvain still knows how best to get in Ingrid’s best books, and because he wants to truly capture the joy of Christmas that has elevated his spirit since he arrived, he decides that the best thing he can do for the house is to fill it with baked goods. It’s a curse on this household, really, that none of the people that live in it have an ounce of talent at baking; after Dimitri had broken one too many spoons while beating cookie dough into submission, Sylvain had stopped trying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix sits on the kitchen counter and watches him as he mixes the ingredients together. He tells him about how the girl that lives next door to him, who isn’t nearly as good a baker as Mercedes and not as sunny a presence in his life as Annette, but who regularly drops off fresh baked goods at his door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a miracle that I haven’t gotten fat,” he says, and can only somewhat be offended when Felix tilts his head and looks at him appraisingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very fat,” he decides. There’s a teasing smile on his face, and it is every bit worth the insult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I’ve heard dad bods are in,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A louder laugh escapes Felix then, and it’s music to his goddamn ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dough has reached a point where it’s going to be easier to just abandon all stirring utensils and go at it with his hands, so he rolls his sleeves and plunges his hands into it. He’s just digging down to the bottom of the bowl when he hears Felix speak again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you wash your hands before you started this?” he asks, and then a moment later, more certain: “You didn’t wash your hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain mulls it over for a moment, trying to remember, then shakes his head. “Well, now that you mention it, I may not have. Guess I got too eager when I decided to start to bake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, and he looks up to see Felix regarding the bowl, his nose briefly wrinkling. “Those fingers were inside me right before you started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix is absolutely correct on that, and maybe he ought to feel a little bit ashamed of himself for not having realized and also being a disgusting enough person that he had considered wiping his fingers off on the sheets perfectly sufficient. But he’s known for a long time that he’s going to hell, so instead of any reasonable response, he guffaws. “Well, then these cookies will have been made with a little extra love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Groaning, Felix buries his face in his hands and stays there for a long moment. “You’re hopeless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably,” he agrees, looking back at him with a grin. “But you like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when the cookies are finished and sitting to cool, Sylvain brings one of them up to Felix’s lips, and he actually takes a bite. He thinks that that might mean it’s more than ‘a little bit’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He also ends up putting this batch of cookies into a tupperware to stash away in the basement, then theatrically washes his hands and starts another for general consumption.)</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>A surprise storm pops up overnight, and in the morning there's a thick blanket of snow on the ground. When Ingrid comes down to let them know about it - despite having all grown up with plenty of snow, there's still something about the first snow of the year that brings out that same childhood spirit - she doesn't even seem fazed that Sylvain is sharing Felix's bed with him. It probably helps that this time, at least, they're both clothed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix groans and tries to burrow himself back in against him to go back to sleep, but, well, maybe Sylvain is just as much a little kid as Ingrid when it comes to snow. He removes himself from Felix's hold and gets to his feet, moving around the room to grab shoes for each of them and a warm jacket for Felix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm not getting up, and I'm definitely not going outside. It will still be there later,” Felix tells him, but in spite of his protests, a moment later he is sitting up and allowing him to slide his boots on and lace them up for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain takes hold of his hand and leads him up the stairs once they're both more or less prepared to be out in the harsh cold, and it's another small victory that he follows him and keeps their hands linked willingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the snow is still falling, and Dimitri and Ingrid are both standing out on their back porch, the former barely recognizable under the pile of fuzzy blankets he's wrapped himself in. Bear is running through the yard in a hurry, barking and jumping up to try and snap up snowflakes. He turns when he notices that there are new arrivals, and he bounces up at Felix, who actually allows his face to soften as he reaches out to pet the dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He's going to track snow all over the house,” he says, but the words don't hold much of their usual punch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri hums, looking over at him. “That just means you'll have to be a little bit more careful if you choose to wear socks. I'll keep him off of the furniture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You'd better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain steps out off of the porch into the snow, bending so that he can pick up some of it to form it into a ball. “It's pretty good packing snow,” he says. When he looks up, Felix is eyeing him suspiciously and starting to move so that he'll be shielded behind Dimitri should he decide to throw the snowball. He can't help but laugh, and while it's tempting, he instead turns to toss it towards Bear, who dutifully does his best effort to catch it and swallow it whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, Ingrid bends to test out the snow as well. “We should make a snowman,” she announces, and there's a general murmur of assent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you're going to do that, I'm not dressed enough,” Felix says, turning to go back inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you suppose he's coming back?” Dimitri asks as he watches the door he had just gone through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Debatable,” Sylvain says, and when he turns back out to the yard again, his eye catches on how Ingrid is looking at him. He looks back at her, waiting, sure that he knows what is about to come. “If you're going to say it, say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't have anything to say. Even though it makes me nervous… I assume you know what you're doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don't,” he says immediately, which he knows isn't the right answer, but at least it's honest. “You could ask Felix if he knows what he's doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid lets out a long-suffering sigh and scrubs her hands over her face. “Just - never mind. I'm going to forget you said anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's always the best idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel Dimitri's eyes on him, looking between the two of them and then to the door, and he's sure that the pieces can slot together in his mind. But Dimitri has also always been willing to let them do whatever they are going to do, being that putting his nose in their business would inevitably end up being nothing but trouble. Dimitri does not need more trouble in his life, and Sylvain is grateful for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid recovers a moment later, and she moves to work on a snowball to start as the base for their snowman. Her actions are as precise and purposeful as ever, and it's almost funny how she hasn't changed, putting her all into something as lighthearted as this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain is so busy watching her that he doesn't hear the door opening again, and he's caught off guard by a hat suddenly being pulled down over his ears. He turns around to face Felix, who then goes for his hands, tugging gloves over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you get sick because you didn't think to protect yourself from the cold, I'm not going to take care of you,” he tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he says and leans in to press a quick kiss to the tip of Felix's nose, because he can read between the lines to know that Felix's love language is a little different from everyone else's. “But you know me, I'm built for the cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why you moved to California?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Sylvain doesn't have an argument to win against that, so he keeps his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix has also brought out an extra scarf for the snowman to wear, in spite of the way he's watching Ingrid roll an ever-growing snowball across the yard like she's crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C'mon, he needs a torso, and I know just the man for the job,” he says, taking the scarf from Felix's hands and setting it down on the patio furniture before leading him out into the yard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them work in tandem, Ingrid working on the base, Sylvain and Felix on the torso, and Dimitri on the head. Because the head takes the least amount of time, Dimitri wanders off to forage for rocks to make buttons and a face for their dear snowperson.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the various snow parts are stacked, with Ingrid placing the head on top, Sylvain volunteers to go find some good stick arms for him, and wordlessly, Felix follows along with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix moves ahead of him into the woods, pulling branches out of their way. When Sylvain calls him a gentleman for it, he lets go and lets a skinny tree limb smack him in the face; he deserves it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let's get this done,” Felix mumbles as he kneels to inspect where a fallen branch lays on the ground, smaller sticks scattered around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain couches down as well to help him, but he quickly gets distracted by just looking at him. He's not going to say it out loud, because he knows how Felix would respond, but there's just something about the way the morning light filters through the bare trees to shine on his face. His dark hair seems to shine, and he stands out against the white backdrop of the snow like he's the center of an art piece he's not even aware he's a part of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you looking at,” he asks when he apparently noticed that Sylvain is being absolutely useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He responds by reaching out and tucking a lock of hair - one of the handful that never manages to make it into the tie when he puts his hair up - back behind his ear; probably quite not the answer that he'd been looking for. “You,” he says, sounding every bit the lovesick fool that he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix scoffs, shaking his head at him. The hair comes untucked and falls back into his face. “You can stare all you want later,” he tells him, though his tone also suggests that he would prefer Sylvain </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> stare even at a later time. “Let's get these damn sticks so we can go back inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain hums and does actually manage to find two proper sticks for their snowman, and just like that they are able to head back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the last second before they step out of the woods, Felix catches his hand and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “You look good, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's almost embarrassing how he feels like he's floating just from something that simple as they bring their findings back to where Ingrid and Dimitri are waiting for them. Dimitri has already delicately placed the stones he's found on the snowman, a serene little smile on both their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are. Now, would you do the honors?” he invites them, gesturing towards their creation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix nods, taking perhaps a little bit too much joy in stabbing the stick arms into the body. He then retrieves the scarf and drapes it around the neck delicately. Standing back to admire his work, he lets out a hum in satisfaction. “Not bad. Now I'm getting coffee,” he says, turning to head back inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not so fast, Fraldarius,” Sylvain says, reaching a hand out to catch him before he gets too far. He hauls him over to stand with the snowman, then fishes his phone out of his pocket to take a picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me,” Dimitri says, taking the phone from his hands and gesturing for Sylvain to get in the picture as well. He's all too willing to oblige.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Dimitri takes a couple shots of him and Felix with the snowman, he ushers Ingrid to join them. From there, they end up spending ten minutes trying to first figure out how to set up his phone camera with the timer so that they'll be able to take a picture that includes all of them, and then how to actually stand to make the picture look even mildly good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they're back inside, Felix does indeed go straight for the coffee like he had mentioned (and thank the goddess for him having had the thought to start some brewing when he'd first gone back inside earlier. He brings Sylvain a hot cup as well when he joins him on the couch, tucking his cold feet underneath the redhead's legs. It's domestic and it feels like the way things are supposed to be.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Though Sylvain is still at least supposedly staying at his parents' house, he's still spending most of his time during the days  with his friends, and most nights curled up with Felix. He doesn't really know how he could have ever expected anything different, now that he's thinking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It snows again a few days later, and the roads in town are a mess. He's happy to use the excuse to be snowed in with Felix, Ingrid, and Dimitri, but in the end he ends up leaving the house anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In spite of the fact that he is the one who has moved away from the freezing cold of the northeast, he's still somehow the one most comfortable driving in the snow, and there's something nostalgic about it, so when Dimitri mentions that he needs to get a little more shopping done, he's happy to act as chauffeur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ingrid is busy with her coursework and Felix, unsurprisingly, is not interested in joining them, so it's just the pair of them as they go to the mall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, they are also the pair among the four of them that are most prone to being absolute idiots. Fortunately, there is only so much trouble they can get into at a shopping mall, and the worst of it is really just them taking at least a couple times the amount of time it really should have taken to get what Dimitri needed done accomplished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a department store, Sylvain has found a ridiculous, fire engine red suit, and of course he was obligated to try it on. He steps out of the fitting room for Dimitri to see him, and he does a quick little spin. “What do you think? Am I Santa enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri looks him over, bringing a pensive hand to his chin as he considers him. “You'll need to grow a beard to complete the look, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, of course. You're a genius,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have my moments,” he responds with a small nod, ever humble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain steps in front of the mirrors to look at himself, nodding his approval at his reflection. “Oh yeah, this is a look,” he says. “Think I can talk Felix into getting on my lap and telling me what he wants for Christmas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A terribly undignified sound escapes Dimitri, and he shakes his head. “I have my doubts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you're probably right. I'll have to step up my game.” He can just see Dimitri shaking his head at him - with fondness, he'd swear - before he heads back into the dressing room to get changed back into his own clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they finish up Dimitri's shopping list, and Sylvain has the chance to pick up a few things for his friends as well (it's good, really, because he had come terribly unprepared), they pile everything into the back of his Subaru before heading back to the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple of minutes into the drive, Dimitri clears his throat, turning in his seat to face Sylvain better. “You're leaving soon,” he says, stating the obvious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, yeah, I've got to get back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?” he asks, and then makes a sound like he's frustrated with himself. “Of course, you do, and that's your home, you've made a life out there, I understand that and I mean no disrespect to the choices you've made for yourself, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain frowns when he doesn't say anything more than that. “But?” he prompts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I worry about what happens when you leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't know what he had expected this conversation to be, but it wasn't this, and he still doesn't know what to expect to come out of Dimitri's mouth next. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do mean it when I say that it's good to see you, but,” he pauses again, the look on his face resembling someone who has just eaten something unpleasantly sour. “I wonder if your visit might do both you and Felix more harm than good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Felix?” he echoes, thrown off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's also not that Felix doesn't want to see you - I'm sure he did, and does,” Dimitri hurries to clarify, giving him a small reassuring smile. “But he'll be in a terrible mood for quite a while after you've gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain doesnʼt say anything, pulling into a parking lot and bringing the car to a stop, crooked across two parking spaces. He doesn't know if he has it in him to both have this conversation and drive at the same time. “He will?” he asks after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suspect as much,” he says with a small nod, sighing. “I know it's been a while, and I wasn't really around to see it, but when he dropped you off at the airport… Well, I'm told he was in bad shape. He didn't leave his room for a few days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I called him when I landed,” he says, as if that makes any difference in terms of what Felix had been feeling in his absence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I'm sure that that helped. Similarly, though, he gets into these moods after he's spoken to you,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it they're not great moods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri shrugs. “It's impossible to know what exactly is happening in his mind. But it's… it's obvious that he's missed you, which of course isn't a bad thing. I just… I want to look out for his happiness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - I want that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you do. It's no secret how you feel for him, or that you're genuinely good for each other,” he says, and there's at least some comfort in hearing that. He knows that Felix has made a difference in his life and who he is, but there's something a little bit better about knowing that others see it too. “It's about both of you and your happiness. I imagine it might take a toll on you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the concern, but I think I'm alright. Seeing Felix is like recharging a battery, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri gives him a look that is a little bit sad, and a little bit pinched. “And then the battery runs down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, over time, sure. But I can handle it.” He's being difficult and he knows it, but it's easiest for him to just deflect, like it always has been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don't know about how either of you is handling it, especially with the distance between here and Los Angeles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain nods, not saying anything for a moment as he lets what Dimitri is saying turn over in his brain. “Then what do you recommend I do about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, he shakes his head. “Truthfully, I couldn't tell you. It's a difficult situation,” he says, and if it weren't for the earnesty in his voice, it would be incredibly frustrating. “Mostly I just wanted you to know. You know how Felix is, he would never say anything to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's unfortunate how true that is. “I don't even know how to start that conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt he does, either,” Dimitri admits. “But I think maybe it's worth trying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he agrees, pulling the car back out of park and getting them back onto the road.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Sylvain watches Felix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn't like he actually expects anything to be different just because he knows that Felix gets sad when he leaves - and when he thinks about it in those terms, it doesn't even seem like it should have been a groundbreaking revelation when Dimitri said it. He knows that Felix isn't emotionless, he's far from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can't stop thinking about the life he might have had if he hadn't left. He wonders what it might have looked like, if they might still be living here in this house but sharing this basement. Maybe they'd have a home all their own. More than all that, though, he wonders if Felix has ever had the same thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they're laying in bed together that night, he braids Felix's hair. His hands can't seem to stay still, and he wants to talk to him about it but he just doesn't know how. He's never been at a loss for words, but Felix has always been an exception to all of his rules.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to tell him that he misses him too, thinks about him constantly. He almost does, almost opens his mouth to tell Felix that one of the first things he did in his apartment on the west coast was put up a picture of the two of them to make it feel a little bit more like home and that even now he looks at the picture every single day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he can actually say anything, Felix breaks the silence. “What's it like out there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“California. Los Angeles. Your whole new life. What's it like for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well, I mean, like I said, things are good. Work is work, but every day brings me closer to the day I find something better, right? Everybody on set is - ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. You've said all that. That's not what I'm asking,” he says, and there's an edge on his tone that Sylvain worries he might cut himself on. “What is your life like?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a moment, but finally he thinks he understands the question that is being asked. He has to think about it, though, because if he's being honest with himself, he doesn't really know what the answer is. He doesn't know how much of a life he has, now that he's been examining it a bit more closely, which feels pathetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t talk about having friends,” Felix presses on when he doesn’t say anything. “Even that cake girl - she’s your neighbor, she’s not your friend. And that’s fine for some people, but that’s not the kind of person you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I have friends out there. I hang out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at him for a moment, a little bit skeptical, but ultimately apparently decides that it’s not worth fighting him on it. “I suppose there are pictures of you at bars with various girls,” he allows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s on the tip of his tongue to redirect the conversation, to tease Felix and accuse him of being jealous so that he might throw some of the attention away from himself. But he’s trying to approach this from a more honest, open place, and Felix would see right through it anyway. “Yeah. I admit, most of the people I know are from work, but that’s normal, right?” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” he says, and Sylvain supposes that he probably doesn’t have as much of a frame of reference for it - he’s managed to keep his same friends from his childhood onward, and those same friends more than satisfy his emotional needs. “But I don’t know if it counts if all they’re interested in is fucking you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs, shaking his head. He knows the optics of it, but it’s important to him that Felix doesn’t get the wrong idea. “I don’t let anything happen with them,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His surprise evident, he just blinks at Sylvain for a second. “Any of them?” he asks, skeptical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean. Not none of them,” he admits. “I’ve been living out there a while, after all. I’ve had to mess around with a few people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Felix says, “We’re not here to discuss your sex life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re not,” he agrees, letting out a soft breath. “Anyway, it’s just… I think mostly I’m just busy, you know? Not a whole lot of time for socializing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look tired in a lot of the pictures I’ve seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which doesn’t really seem fair to Sylvain, who looks at all the pictures that he posts, and he’s comfortable in saying that he looks good in them. But then again, Felix has a remarkable eye for seeing right through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, like I said, I’m working a lot. Or if I’m not working, I’m trying to make the connections I need to get a leg up, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix nods, letting out a soft sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his conversation with Dimitri fresh in his mind, Sylvain almost expects Felix to try and push back a little bit. His mind gets a little bit carried away and thinks that maybe Felix might even try to tell him that he should come back; maybe he could say something about how they’re not that far from New York and there’s plenty of acting opportunities in New York. In another life, maybe he would have; maybe in that life they both would have been more capable of talking about their feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead, eventually Felix sighs and turns over, wrapping an arm around him. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself,” he says, the words coming out sounding just as much like a threat as they are caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain thinks for a moment that he should just let the conversation fade out from there, but there’s something that feels like it’s going to make his chest burst, and so he has to open his mouth. “I love you,” he says quietly, murmuring the words into the crown of Felix’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t respond for a second, but he stays lax where he’s curled up against him, and eventually he lifts his head to look up at Sylvain again. “I love you too,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No more words are exchanged before they fall asleep, and maybe there is more to be said, but it’s progress, and in any case, he wants to bask in the feeling of knowing with absolute certainty Felix loves him.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>On the last morning that he’s on the east coast, Sylvain drags his feet. He lingers in bed with Felix and they talk a little and they kiss a little but ultimately he knows that he isn’t going to mean anything. He’s going to leave, and he can’t ask Felix for any of this to mean anything more than it does, because no matter how selfish he is, he isn’t that selfish. He’s already coward enough for telling him he loves him and then running across the country.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually he has to pull himself out of the bed and get his things together - and make a hurried trip back to his parents, even though his heart aches to have Felix drive him to the airport again instead, just like five years ago - and even though he keeps Felix in his orbit for all of it, they don’t say much of anything significant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally makes himself leave the house, he hugs Dimitri and Ingrid and then stands out on the porch with Felix. He kisses him and tucks his hair behind his ears again and memorizes the look on his face; it’s a memory that will keep him going for a few weeks, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do anything stupid,” Felix tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, giving him a small smile. “You got it. I’ll text you when I land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he says softly. There’s a look on his face like there’s more that he wants to say, but he doesn’t, just leans in and kisses Sylvain again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain sits in the car for a couple of minutes before he actually does anything, but ultimately he knows he needs to get going or he’ll end up missing his flight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It doesn’t seem like such a terrible thing at the moment.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart feels heavy as he stares out the window of the plane. He knows that things are the way that they are and there isn’t much changing them; he knows that he is the one who made the choice to pull up his roots and moves as far away as he could while still being in the same country. But he can’t shake the feeling that he’s walking away from the only real home he’s ever known, regardless of his permanent address.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wishes that Felix would have said whatever he was going to say - if he’d asked him to stay, he’s not sure that he would have had it in him to say no. He tries not to let himself think too much about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the plane touches down at LAX, he pulls his phone out and turns airplane mode back off. Several messages come in all at once; this isn’t that unusual, especially given that he’s in a few group chats. What does catch him by surprise is seeing that they are actually mostly from Felix.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I forgot to say I love you before you left.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I also meant to remind you to come back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Found a hoodie of yours. I’m not mailing it back to you. Keep better track of your shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re going to get these all in a row, huh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, audibly, standing on the plane and waiting to be allowed to disembark, not caring if anyone thinks he’s crazy for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sylvain isn’t even out of the airport before he calls Felix, and he would feel a little bit embarrassed to be this needy if it wasn’t for the fact that he wasn’t the one to send multiple texts in a row. “I love you too,” he says when Felix picks up, not bothering with a greeting. “I’ll always come back. I want to keep coming back to you forever, if you’ll let me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks he can hear relief in Felix’s voice on the other end of the phone when he says, “You’d better.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i kind of feel like i might write a companion piece to this? idk, depends on how people feel about it, maybe.</p><p>say hello on <a href="https://twitter.com/bigfootsflannel">my twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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